Say Goodbye (Romantic Suspense #25) by Karen Rose

            “Did he know that Waylon was his father?” Liza asked.

            She shook her head. “He’d always called him ‘uncle.’ But when Waylon never came back, Will felt abandoned. He’d always been an angry child, but he . . . Well, he took his own life.”

            “I’m so sorry for your loss,” Liza murmured.

            Margo’s smile was small and sad. “Thank you. Eventually, I met Hugh and he offered me a better life. This is going to kill him. I assume that Waylon is dead?”

            “He died seventeen years ago,” Tom told her, then abruptly changed gears. “What made you offer Craig Hickman a million dollars?”

            Margo jolted. “What?”

            “A million dollars is a lot of money,” Tom said. “Why did you offer it to him?”

            She was quiet for a moment, struggling to regain her composure. “Waylon put it in an account for me when he helped me escape. I never spent it. I was afraid that Ben would know. When Tracy’s first child was born, I offered her the money, for the baby. She was . . . appalled.”

            Margo grew pensive. “I didn’t know that she understood what would have happened to her if she’d turned twelve in Eden, but of course she did. She knew I was scared and hurting, so she never said anything. When I offered her money, though . . . She said it was blood money. That I should give it to someone else, and suggested Hickman. When she’d started college, she’d looked up the whole sordid story of Ben’s embezzlement. She told me to offer Hickman the money. I couldn’t find him, so Tracy contacted that reporter. Erica Mann. She got me in touch with Mr. Hickman. He said he didn’t want my money, that I should donate it. So I did.”

            “Where did Waylon get a million dollars?” Tom asked. “Did he steal it from Ben?”

            “No, he said it was his share of the money. But Ben wouldn’t have given it to him. He said he’d gotten it through Ben’s financial manager. Ben called him his ‘banker.’ ”

            “Do you remember this man’s name?” Tom asked, and Liza held her breath. This was what they’d come for.

            “Of course. They were prison friends at Terminal Island. I knew him, too. His name was Daniel Park. He was in for securities fraud. Insider trading or something like that.”

            “Waylon had access to Mr. Park?” Tom asked.

            “Yes. When we first started Eden, Waylon was the only one to leave—to get supplies. Ben would give him a code to use with Daniel, along with instructions on stock trades. That was how Ben and Daniel communicated. The code changed every time. Ben loved puzzles and he had a . . . what do you call it? The rule that tells how the code will change each time.”

            “A cipher?” Tom prompted.

            “Yes, a cipher. Waylon figured out the pattern. Ben never did give him enough credit. Treated Waylon like he was dumb. I think Waylon would skim money from Ben’s accounts and tell Daniel to invest it for him, pretending he was acting on Ben’s instruction. Ben was very good with money. Waylon took his stock tips and was able to grow the money he skimmed. He told me that was where the million had come from.”

            Skimmed. Margo still was making excuses for the criminals in her life.

            Margo looked away, then resolutely back at Tom. “Am I under arrest?”

            “Not at this time,” Tom replied.

            She huffed out a breath. “I still have to tell Hugh. I hate this.”

            Not once, Liza realized, had this woman expressed sorrow for those who hadn’t gotten out. She was only worried about herself.

            Tom gave Margo one of his cards, then stood, holding a hand out for Liza. “We’ll leave you to the rest of your day, ma’am,” he said, and they walked out together to Tom’s SUV.

            “Well,” Liza said once they were locked in and buckled up. “That was interesting.”

            “It was. I need to let Croft and Raeburn know about Daniel Park and then we can grab some lunch. Oh. Good timing,” he said when his phone buzzed with an incoming call. “Hey, Croft. What’s—” He stiffened. “Injuries?”